Broken Promises (24 page)

If it meant screwing up his career with the
Bureau, so be it. He had to find Bette and the rest of his family.
The very fact he put Bette before his family in his thought
processes was scary enough, but he couldn’t stop any longer to
consider the ramifications.

First things first.

After glancing in both directions, he ducked
around the next van. Good. No one was paying any attention to him.
In spite of his special-agent status, he was a tagalong on this op
and clearly of no consequence. Twenty yards to the cover of a stand
of trees. Once he reached the perimeter of cedar, he had it
made.

Like taking a Sunday stroll, he moseyed
toward his goal. Checking over his shoulder, he heard the sounds of
the SWAT team as they clambered into their vehicle.

He ducked behind an outcrop of fieldstone and
held his breath. Would they miss him?

“MacGregor!” Detective Spitz bellowed, then
shook his head.

Guess so
. Even so, doubtful they’d
waste time looking for him. Again he heard Spitz. “Let him walk
back to town. Serve him right.” One van left, then the other. He
eased his head over the outcrop and realized he was finally
alone.

He stood, stretched, then sprinted for the
trees.

Fifteen minutes later, he was deep into the
woods and constantly heading northeast. His second wind kicked in
and breathing eased. Muscles warmed up and loosened. Damned if he
wasn’t in almost as good condition as when he graduated from
Quantico. Still, this uphill trek through old-growth hickory, pine,
and cedar was considerably more difficult than his daily morning
runs on Chicago’s flat city streets.

He ducked low-hanging pine branches and
muscled through the thick undergrowth. Another fifteen minutes and
he oughta hit the perimeter of Rideout’s land.

Damned lucky it wasn’t deer season. Someone
would be bound to take a shot with all the noise he was making.
Once he was closer to his target, he’d proceed with more
caution.

He stopped and caught his breath,
listening.

Ahead of him, a rustle of leaves. The snap of
a twig.

He waited. Not loud enough for a large
animal. Probably a raccoon.

Then a bark.

Damn. Just what he needed: a feral, possibly
rabid dog.

He held his breath. Stupid. The creature
could already smell him. And it was getting closer.

Fight or flight. He chose the latter and took
off east as fast as his long legs could carry him.

Another yip of a bark. Damn. It was closing
in.

Then more excited yips. Come to think of it,
familiar
sounding yips.

He stopped. Waited. Exhaled. Of course, none
other than a certain canine. Shadow, her thick coat matted with
burrs, leaped into his arms. Startled, he grabbed and held on tight
to the panting creature. Her dark eyes bore him no malice but gazed
intently into his. Maybe she was engaging in an attempt at the
doggy version of ESP.

What could it hurt? “Okay, girl, where’s
Bette?”

Good thing no one was watching. How asinine.
Asking the freaking dog like she was Lassie and could lead him to
Timmy in the mine.

The Sheltie licked Alex’s cheek as if he were
a nice bowl of Alpo, then squirmed.

“All right. All right. Down you go. Not like
I asked you to wash my mug.” The dog barked, then headed uphill and
northeast.

Might as well follow her. After all, she came
from where he was headed. Must be the right direction.

~~*~~

Drew loomed over Bette, his face a mask of
determination. The expression in his gaze, however, was freaking
scary, not to mention how he kept repeatedly clenching his fists.
She backed away. “Sorry. I speak without thinking sometimes. If
it’s any consolation, Alex hates that about me too.”

He grunted, averted his gaze, then pointed at
Jackie. “You and Cody, back in your room.”

“What are you going to do, Drew?” Jackie
nudged Cody back into the room, but then stood her ground with her
hands on her hips. “Bette’s my friend…” she faltered, perhaps
trying to think what would mollify her volatile brother. “I
need
her. It’s lonely down here with just Cody. You don’t
spend that much time with us, so it helps to have another woman
around…if you know what I mean.”

During Jackie’s plea, Bette eased away from
Drew’s reach and made herself as small and nonthreatening as
possible. She didn’t do meek well, but if acting meek would keep
him from bashing her again, she’d give it a go.

“No more funny stuff. I got business to
attend to. And Al should be here soon.” A wolfish smile creased his
full cheeks into an expression more grimace than smile. “I have a
nice reception party waiting for him. Just wait and see.” With that
ominous statement, he bounded up the stairs, slamming the door at
the top.

Relief rushed through Bette, leaving her weak
in the knees. At least breathing came easier, and she didn’t have
to wonder if it was going to be her last. “Finally. We’ve got to
get out of here before Alex shows up.” She rushed to stand below
one of the high basement windows. “I don’t know what Drew has
planned, but it won’t be hots, brats, and tall cold ones.” She
jumped and tried to grab hold of the windowsill but missed.

“Damn, I hate being short. Come on. Maybe you
can stand on my shoulders and reach it.” Bending over, Bette laced
her fingers together. “Come on. Quick. Before he comes back.”

Jackie shook her head. “I won’t leave Cody.
Besides, you weigh less than I do. Let me hold you up.” She bent
over, lacing her fingers. Bette hiked her leg and set her foot into
the cup of Jackie’s hands, then jumped for the ledge. “Hup!”

The added boost was enough for Bette to reach
the sill. She used her forearms on the ledge to hang on, halfway
clinging to the wall like a drunken spider. “There’s an opener, but
it’s rusted tight.” She banged on the glass with a clenched fist
and let fly with a string of expletives. “Sorry, Cody can’t hear
me, can he?”

“Don’t worry.” Jackie shook her head. “He’s
in our room, and I made sure the door was closed.”

“If we just had something I could use to
break this window…” The muscles in her forearms started to jitter.
“Ack!” She lost her hold, slid down the wall to her feet, and
plopped on her butt. She muttered another expletive. “Let’s look
again. There has to be something down here I can use to break the
glass.”

“But we’ve already gone over everything,”
Jackie said. “Looked everywhere at least twice.”

Bette motioned for Jackie to follow her into
the other room. “What about taking this bed apart?” She yanked off
the quilted spread. “See? The frame’s metal. Maybe we can break the
glass with that.” She folded the spread into a square. “I can use
this to pad the broken glass and climb out. If I can just get to
the main road, I can get the cops out here in no time flat.”

“What if he hears us?”

“I’ll have to be quick. No hesitation.” Bette
looked around. “He can’t hear us, can he?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never been able to
hear
him
walking around upstairs. The only thing I hear is
when he unbolts the door.”

“Good. It’s a risk, but it’s our only chance
to get help before Alex comes waltzing into Drew’s trap.” She
shoved the thin mattress off the bed. “Let’s get it done!”

~~*~~

Alex stopped and crouched low as he reached
the line of trees bordering the old Rideout place. Only it didn’t
look so old anymore. Whoever had it now had restored the place
until it looked brand new. Formerly an old saltbox style farmhouse,
it was freshly painted, and gingerbread molding had been added,
unnecessarily. Tarted the place up, all right.

The Sheltie squirmed beside him but remained
in place. “Hush. No barking. Think you can remember that?” he
muttered.

Fuck. He must be losing his mind, talking to
the dog like she was human.

From his current vantage point, he made out a
root cellar door and small basement windows along the back of the
two-story farmhouse, but he couldn’t see the driveway or if there
were any vehicles. He’d have to work his way around toward the
front. And naturally there wasn’t a single sign of the local LEOs
yet, or his Bureau counterpart. No doubt they were still waiting on
the sheriff or a judge who would sign off on a search warrant.

~~*~~

By the time Bette dismantled the bed,
perspiration had collected on her neck. Her hair was a sticky mess
and wouldn’t stay on top of her head, no matter how often she
rearranged it. She blew upward, but her bangs clung to her forehead
as well. “If we ever get out of here, I’m going to shave my
head.”

“Why? Plan on getting kidnapped again?”
Jackie asked, her tone more good humored than the situation called
for.

Bette made a face and huffed. “Tearing this
bed apart was a little more difficult than I thought.”

“Who knew the headboard was screwed to the
sides?”

“And us without so much as a freaking
screwdriver.”

“Good thing we’re women and determined.”

Bette nodded, then hefted the metal-side
frame over her shoulder. “Just be ready to help me with the
comforter. I’m not anxious to shred my body parts trying to get out
of here.” She propped the metal frame on end in front of one of the
high windows. “Here goes nothing.” She sucked in a deep breath,
then jabbed the frame against the glass.

Cringing at the sound, she held her
breath.

Nothing.

Maybe if she backed up and ran, momentum
would do the trick. The glass cracked but didn’t break through.
“One more time.” She backed up as far as the space would allow and
hoofed it like an Olympic pole-vaulter going for the gold.

Success. The end of the frame jammed through
the glass. “Quick. Throw me the comforter. No, wait. I’ll shinny up
the frame; then you can throw it to me.”

Bette attacked the pole and swung upward,
hand over hand, just like she had so many years ago on the school
playground. Reaching the top, she wrapped her legs around. Damn.
Not comfortable at all.

“Here!” Jackie tossed the comforter, and
Bette caught it with one hand. She wrapped it around her fist and
knocked the majority of the jagged glass fragments from the window
frame. “Sure could use an extra hand to refold this thing.” She
grunted and managed to cover the ledge and bottom of the window and
started the process of working her way through the window.

Her elbow scraped against a fragment of glass
still in the frame. She swore under her breath. The warmth of the
blood oozed down her arm, but she inched forward.

“Are you okay?” Jackie asked.

“I’ve been better, but I’m taking it
easy.”

The sound of a door opening. She whipped her
head around trying to see over her shoulder, but the angle was
wrong.

“Hurry!” Jackie cried, panic rising in her
tone. “He’s coming. Oh, no.”

A bellow of outrage emanated from their
captor and echoed through the basement. His heavy footsteps pounded
down the stairs.

Bette’s elbows dug into the concrete well
outside the window while she tried to wiggle the rest of her body
up the makeshift pole.

~~*~~

Alex stood in a stand of pine trees and
watched the farm house. As before, he couldn’t see anyone moving
about either inside or out. A black Ford Excursion sat in the front
drive. And just beyond it was a dark red Cadillac. SUV had to be
Rideout’s. Certainly fit the description of the vehicle Bette had
seen when she’d left Jackie at the office. And the Caddy fit too.
Walking up and knocking on the front door wasn’t much of a plan.
Instead, working his way behind the house seemed a more viable
solution. There were several small basement windows, but fitting
his shoulders through one of those suckers was doubtful. What about
the root cellar door?

And how to keep Shadow from barking and
giving away his position was another problem. If he only had a
leash. He unbuckled his belt and whipped it off. “Okay, girl, you
need to wait right here.” After a couple of false starts, he
managed to fasten the belt to her collar and then loop the belt
around a bush. “Not much slack, but it can’t be helped,” he
muttered. “Just behave and you won’t choke.”

Crap. While Alex himself might be considered
expendable, Bette would kill him if anything happened to her
dog.

“Sit. Stay. Whatever…”

The sound of breaking glass fractured the
quiet countryside. He searched for the origin of the sound.
Something had broken through one of the basement windows.
Crouching, he scrambled through the brush until he reached a spot
perpendicular to the window. Still hidden in the cover of the
trees, he waited. And watched.

Some kind of thick blanket or spread was
shoved through, and then miraculously, a head—Bette’s. His heart
thundered as adrenaline pumped through his body while he watched
her struggle to escape.

He broke from the tree line and raced toward
the woman he didn’t want to live without. “Bette,” he called in a
low voice, hoping she could hear and no one else.

She glanced up, her eyes widening with
surprise. “Hurry. He’s back.” Then she squealed and disappeared
from the window.

He stopped, straightened. A door slammed, and
he heard the ominous clicking of nails on the side porch. The rush
of a large animal running. Heavy breathing and growling.

A dog. Not a small one like Shadow. The
creature racing around the corner of the house was as big as a
small elephant. A freaking Rottweiler with lips curled back,
showing some massive teeth. Massive,
sharp
teeth.

Alex shuddered. Phobia or not, that snarling
creature stood between him and the people he cared most about in
the entire world. One way or another, it was going down.

Not a nine-year-old kid anymore. Simple as
mind over matter.